


Dinner and a Smile

by chockfullofsecrets



Category: RWBY
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Tickling, and sometimes that means getting embarrassed in front of a bunch of teenagers, ironwood needs a break, probably ironqrow if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:10:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21841033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chockfullofsecrets/pseuds/chockfullofsecrets
Summary: Ironwood needs dinner and a break. And he'll get them, if Qrow has anything to say about it.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen & James Ironwood
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	Dinner and a Smile

Sometimes, James wondered if there was a time when he would have considered filing paperwork at 10 in the evening a late night at the office - certainly not in the last year. Maybe not in the last five. There were no late nights anymore, only a dwindling amount of precious time before Mantle went critical, before Salem gained too much power, before she showed up again in his tech and in the cities he was supposed to be able to protect. 

_Brothers_ , it had been a long time since he’d ended the day without a headache and a gnawing sense of unease. And it seemed like the streak would continue, even with the influx of additions to his inner circle.

His office door chimed. James glanced over at the appropriate screen, then tapped the door open. “Ah, Qrow. Glad to see you got my message.’ He paused. ‘And responded in a fairly timely manner, even.”

Qrow smirked, his jewelry glinting even in the dim office lights as he propped himself lightly against the doorframe. “Aw, Jimmy, a compliment? I guess you really were happy to see me.”

“Of course I was.” James frowned. “I said so, didn’t I?”

“I’ve heard you say nicer things to all kinds of people,” Qrow said, shrugging himself upright and ambling towards the desk. “You military types are real good at buttering people up. Yes, sir. No, sir. Whatever it takes to get a promotion, sir.” 

James was halfway to saying something that was probably going to end with broken windows when Qrow reached his desk and huffed out a laugh, looking almost apologetic. “I’m not trying to start a fight. It was hard to believe at first, after everything that’s happened, but you’ve been good to us. The kids are really enjoying their licenses.”

“Oh.” James cleared his throat, regaining equilibrium at the sudden loss of tension. “They’re certainly making good use of them. I’m glad it was something I could do.”

Qrow cocked his head, birdlike - as always, the unconscious action was at least a _little_ funny. “Sure. Now, you said you needed me to verify a report?”

“Yes.” Another tap, another screen, this time facing Qrow. “This is your report from wall patrol three days ago - can you confirm this is the right sector? If it is, we’ll have to log another breach report.”

Qrow grimaced at the hologram, pulling out his scroll to reference. “Yeah, it’s right. Shit, that’s not good.”

“I’ll send Penny down tomorrow to estimate how much material repairs will take,” James sighed, minimizing the screen. “Alright, that was it. Go enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Qrow didn’t move, a dark smudge in the corner of his vision. “Hey, if you keep doing that you’re going to fracture your nose.”

“What?” Oh, he was pinching at the bridge of his nose again, this time with his prosthetic hand. Stupid headache. “It’s fine. Atlas prosthetics have the best pressure control in the world-”

“Don’t care,” Qrow interrupted. “What are you doing with the rest of _your_ evening?”

James looked up, surprised - that wasn’t like Qrow at all. “I’ll - be here, I suppose.”

“Right.” Qrow slid his scroll back into his hip pocket, completely ignoring the compartment in his new vest that was _meant_ for the thing. “Come on, the kids got dinner for tonight. Nora can spare an extra person’s worth of food for you.”

He thought back to some of the looks he’d gotten from said kids in recent history - distrust, something ranging from fear to outright anger. They were in his inner circle, but he certainly wasn’t in theirs. Even beyond that, the awkwardness of showing up unannounced - “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Better than yours, though.” Qrow was suddenly looming over his desk, making use of his lanky arms to reach for the power button. James swiped reflexively at the intruding hand - he set everything to save automatically, of course, but Qrow didn’t _know that_ -

Qrow smirked insolently even as his wrist was caught, neatly reversing the hold and bracing his other hand on the desk as he heaved James upright.

James wavered a little on his feet, staring dumbly as his headache spiked. He reached for the bridge of his nose with his free hand, but Qrow caught that wrist too. They stood there, reaching to each other, the warmth of contact nothing short of intoxicating. 

Qrow’s head was cocked again - okay, it was a lot less funny when Qrow was analyzing _him_ \- and his voice was almost unbearably gentle even through that low rasp it had. “Trust me, I get it, but food will help.”

Sure. Sure. He could spare a couple minutes. How bad could it be?

^^^

He was an optimist, apparently. 

RWBY, JNR, and Oscar were holed up in a common area near their assigned dorms, and every single one of them fell silent as Qrow and James walked in. Normal enough on the occasions he showed up to deliver a speech, but he could take the hint.

“Um,” he said eloquently. “Hello. I’m just going to-”

Qrow grabbed his arm before he could back away. “The general needs some food, and I figure we have enough casseroles to spare thanks to Tall, Blonde, and Good with Children over there.”

The blond boy - Jaune’s - ensuing blush was enough to pinpoint the target of the comment. “Uh, congratulations?” James offered. “It sounds like you’re making quite an impact.”

Jaune’s red-haired teammate burst out laughing, a few of the others following. “He sure is!” she crowed, elbowing the poor boy in the side - James could almost see his aura take the hit. “Just make sure you don’t do any _impacting_ on the job, huh?”

“Stop it, Nora!” Jaune yelped. “Uh, thank you, General Ironwood.”

That seemed to break the ice sufficiently, the kids restarting their conversation, and soon he and Qrow were sharing a couch next to a table strewn with takeout and casseroles. 

Qrow sank into the cushions, eyeing his straight-backed posture disapprovingly. “What, does your spine not bend?” he sniped.

“I’m surprised you haven’t offered me something to take the edge off,” James sniped back, smiling a little. He’d barely finished the sentence when the shrill voice of Qrow’s youngest niece rang out.

Both their heads snapped around. “UNCLE QROW,” Ruby yelled, dashing to her uncle’s side with what looked like a rapidly destabilizing takeout box. Qrow’s attention turned fully to her, but James’ gaze stopped on a coldly glaring Yang Xiao Long. 

She caught his eye, making a fist with thumb and pinky extended, then tipped the sign toward her lips. _Drink_. She then slashed a finger across her throat, eyes flaring red. _Drink and die_ , then. 

Come to think of it, Qrow hadn’t taken out his flask in all this time - 

He’d quit?

It made sense - the improved behavior, his sudden concern about people taking care of themselves - 

He’d quit, and here James was, _baiting_ him - 

Yang appeared to take his wide-eyed horror as understanding, nodding curtly and turning back to the Belladonna girl. 

“James?” Qrow was looking back in his direction, takeout box apparently rescued. “What were you saying?”

“Nothing,” he said. It was too hasty - Qrow raised an eyebrow at him as he shoveled a forkful of casserole into his mouth.

He sat awkwardly, gaze locked on a gently steaming box of takeout. He didn’t know enough about them. He didn’t know enough about anything. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t - 

He was a functional, competent adult who was in charge of massive amounts of people and weaponry, but the knowledge of just how much he was doing _wrong_ was still enough to knock him right on his ass.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there, embroiled in a morose staring contest with the gleaming white of the takeout box, when Qrow shifted closer and nudged at his left side firmly enough to make him jump.

“ _Relax_ ,” he insisted, poking James again and making him jump even more. “Come on, do I have to feed it to you?”

“Qrow, I’m just not - Qrow!” The other man was looking more and more mischievous with every reaction to his poking, and James nearly groaned as he realized what was about to happen. One single night of drinking too much, a single ill-considered confession of this particular weakness, and he’d spent the better part of two decades paying for it as Qrow decided to exploit his knowledge whenever it suited him. 

“Whoa, whoa! Careful, you were almost smiling there for a second. Better get it under control, or you’ll ruin your whole-” Qrow gestured vaguely, a lazy roll of his wrist, “ _image_ ”. 

Qrow pressed even closer, leaning in as James cringed away from the sensation of wiry fingers palpitating his side. His whole chest tensed in retaliation, but even that couldn’t stop his lips from curving traitorously up, or the strangled laugh pushed out of his thrumming lungs. He sucked in a breath. “Qrow, I will shoOT YOU-”

“Oh, you will? But you hugged me and everything...” Qrow withdrew a little bit and _hmmed_ , seemingly considering. The glint in his eyes, the way Qrow was still very much in his personal space, told James that this consideration was a complete lie. “Well, at least it’ll be quick.”

Qrow pounced, knocking James back against the not-quite-soft arm of the couch. James’ spine (partially prosthetic, and it _did_ bend, thank you very much) clicked a little as it tried to help him back up, but Qrow was already perched atop one of his legs, knee neatly pinning his right arm at the elbow and fingers reaching deftly under his coat to tickle at his hips. The prosthetics didn’t really translate _ticklish_ well, but his left side was more than enough to trigger a wave of desperate laughter even as he flushed an embarrassed red at the surprised cries of the kids somewhere to the right.

James swung his left arm wildly, trying to jostle Qrow off. “Hey!” Qrow complained, still grinning like the imp he was as he rebalanced effortlessly and pinned the offending limb to the back of the couch. His free hand stilled briefly at James’ side before spidering ever-so-slightly upwards. “Hey, Jimmy, this still your worst spot?”

“Ngh - ha - get ohohoff! Ihi - Qrow, I mehehean it -” He was fighting to keep his voice stern, but it was so _hard_ to be even remotely dignified when Qrow insisted on tweaking every single rib he had on the way up his torso. 

Qrow massaged lightly at his highest rib, far too close to the sensitive hollow of his trapped arm, and any composure James had left dissolved as his protests lapsed into helpless giggling. Qrow smiled down at him, obviously pleased with this reaction, and James squeezed his eyes shut to escape his gaze. “Yep, looks like it’s still pretty bad,” Qrow teased. “And what about here?”

James tugged futilely at his arm as Qrow’s fingers strayed further north, still points of pressure at the very edge of his underarm. “Well? Got anything to say?”

Still giggling, it was all James could do to shake his head. 

“Okay, then.” That strange softness again in Qrow’s voice. James opened his eyes just in time to slam them shut again as Qrow tickled mercilessly under his arm, fingers brushing over what seemed like every last nerve he had left. He was laughing so hard it _hurt_ , wrenching at his trapped hands in a desperate attempt to get just an inch more of protection against the onslaught. He couldn’t think, couldn’t worry. 

Not the worst feeling in the world, actually. An entirely different kind of helplessness from what he’d felt at Beacon. He’d have to ponder that later when he wasn’t busy fighting for breath.

After an endless minute, his left arm slipped free and he swatted Qrow with it, using the instant of relief as Qrow laughed at his pathetic attempts to yell Qrow’s name in protest. 

Qrow finally let up, moving his knee off James’ right arm, and even before he caught his breath James reared up and punched Qrow in the shoulder hard enough to sting.

Qrow rocked back, still half-laughing, and all but pouted at him. “Ow! I didn’t punch you!”

James relaxed back against the couch arm, gulping in air until he could manage a full sentence. “Well you’re not ticklish, you ingrate, so what else am I -”

“What do you mean, ‘he’s not ticklish’?” Yang interrupted. They both froze, heads swiveling to face their spectators. 

James’ heart rate was already rising as he scrambled for any way to regain control of the situation, but his panic abated somewhat upon seeing the children’s faces. They looked amused - happy, even. He’d thought that the Faunus girl - Blake’s - ears had a permanent pained twist to them, but there they were, poised comfortably as she smiled at the two of them.

Yang and Ruby were both examining their uncle, arms crossed. “Yeah, Uncle Qrow is super ticklish!” Ruby said, grinning. “Every time we’d have tickle fights at home, Dad would-”

“Hey!” Qrow snapped, clapping his hands over James’ ears. James swiped at him again, and this time Qrow’s knee slipped right off the couch and took the rest of him with it. He knocked his elbow on the table, and half the kids sprang up to protect the food before Qrow’s semblance could break something. 

James sat up properly, and didn’t even feel a little bit bad about planting a boot atop Qrow’s back to keep him down. “Oh? Tell me everything.”

The group cringed a little - right, those secrets they were keeping - but Ruby perked right back up and launched into a description of Qrow’s most embarrassing defeat at the hands of his brother-in-law. 

When she had finished, James let a considerably less arrogant Qrow up off the floor. “I won’t act on that tonight, I think we all deserve a quiet evening.” He fixed Qrow with a stern look. “But you should be… careful.”

Qrow rolled his eyes, completely unbothered, and grabbed a random container of food to shove at James. “Shut up and eat something.”

He accepted the food gratefully, noting with considerable surprise the distinct lack of headache. 

An evening well spent, then.

**Author's Note:**

> This fandom needs more gen tickle fic, even if it means I have to write Ironwood POV and feel mildly uncomfortable every time I have to refer to him as James -.- 
> 
> To that end - I don't usually take prompts, but I definitely want to write more for this fandom, so if you have any gen tickle fic prompts feel free to leave them in the comments or ask me on [tumblr](http://chockfullofsecrets.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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